


Bright Fire

by charis2770



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anger, Angst, Axel is having a crappy day, Crying, M/M, Rough Sex, Saix is a bootlicker, Senseless slaughter of topiary, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A version of Axel and Roxas' first time. Axel has a lot of unhappy thoughts and gets angry instead of being sad, because this is Axel we're talking about. Saix manages to make things work, and Axel runs off after attacking his friend. Roxas finds him and refuses to be warned off. Axel reaches his breaking point, and feels horrible about what he does, except maybe Roxas isn't as upset as he probably should be...</p><p>This story is the beginning of a series that will focus on Axel and Roxas and their relationship. Events herein will take place mainly during the storyline of 358/2 Days.</p><p>As always, BrightFire, you guys are amazing and wonderful and I love you all. </p><p>BrightFirePro.Tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rage

Flowers, he thinks darkly, are more fun to burn than wood. He likes watching them wither and turn brown, curling in upon themselves as though they might escape the flames. This is, of course, futile. Fire is a great equalizer. It’s an equal opportunity killer. He realizes he’s being both childish and a little macabre, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t like Marluxia, and the traitor isn’t here to bemoan the loss of his precious flowers anyway. With a molten green glare, he incinerates another clump of blossoms. He has no idea whether they are begonias or pansies or daisies or…whatever. He could not possibly care less. They smell sort of interesting when they burn. A little like incense.

Axel thinks he’s being manipulated. This pisses him off. Partly this is because he does not like being manipulated. Partly it is because he knows he hasn’t the patience to analyze the situation clearly enough to really get to the bottom of it and thus sees no way to avoid the manipulation without out and out rebellion. He’s not ready for that, not yet.

Xemnas, he thinks angrily, turning more pansies or irises or tulips into ash. How they follow him just like obedient little sheep. All except the three in Castle Oblivion, of course, and Axel thinks it’s entirely likely he’s been manipulated into handling THAT situation too. Xemnas, with his plans and promises and his blue-fucking-haired- lapdog. Damn Saix anyway for trying to play the friend card on him when now is the one time in his life he can’t afford to let that matter. Oh god, he mourns this fact too. Part of the reason he’s starting to think the Superior is full of shit is that if he really hadn’t any heart, there’s no way he’d be struggling so much with all these fucking feelings. How could he agonize over not being able to trust Saix anymore because his best friend is so deep in Xemnas’ goddamned pockets that it’s a wonder Saix  doesn’t change his name to…how do you fit an X into “toilet paper?”  “Toxtile Rexpap?” Anyway, into that, so he can wipe Xemnas’ ass for him. Why why WHY if he’s heartless does poor broken dolly Xion tug at that place in his chest so it hurts and he wants so badly to protect her it makes his teeth ache? And most of all, if his heart has actually been taken from him and he is now an unfeeling soldier in Xemnas’ Army of Darkness or whatever the hell they are….if it’s true then how can he be tying himself in knots over one naïve foolish boy who acts one shitcan of a lot like he feels the same way? Christ, thinking about Roxas makes his palms itch. A soft feral growl trickles up from his throat and out through his teeth as he blasts another patch of blossoms.

He senses rather than hears or feels the darkness portal opening behind him. He akins the sensation to biting tinfoil, only not really a feeling, or not exactly. It’s just a sense of something sharp and torn and black, and he can always feel them when they open, so long as they aren’t too far away. He doesn’t know if the others can feel them or not, in this invisible way that he senses them. He’s facing the portal when Saix steps through it, and he grits his teeth because now is really not a good time.

“Superior says that if you _must_ incinerate foliage, to please take yourself to Wonderland and do it. You’re wrecking the castle grounds,” says Saix coolly.

Well. That just does it. With no warning at all, he hurls a hand towards his friend and fireballs him. Saix tumbles backwards like pieces of kindling, his hair and coat smoking with the blast, and fetches up against a topiary of what he’s nearly sure is a hippopotamus, blinking at him in shock. He’s too stunned and too injured to conjure his claymore. Which, Axel muses darkly to himself, does _TOO_ look like a damn banjo! He steps over Saix and stomps away.

“Toady,” he snarls over his shoulder as he goes. “Brown-noser. _Asslicker._ ”

He opens his own portal and vanishes.

Emerging in the heart of Fragment Crossing, Axel wanders aimlessly among the empty buildings, not really seeing any of them. There’s not much he can burn here, so he paces, hoping to just wear the mad out so he can get back to doing his job. Well, once he figures out what he wants it to be.

“Axel!” calls a voice from one of the alleys. He hears running feet and turns to face the right direction. As if he needed the sound to orient on the voice. Roxas pulls at him like he is a compass needle and Roxas is north. His voice is joyous, pleased at encountering his friend here. When he bursts from the alley, he is smiling. Axel closes his eyes for a moment and tries to throttle down his rage. He’s not doing a very good job.

“You don’t want to be here right now, Roxy,” he says tersely, and turns on his heel to continue pacing. Roxas looks bewildered, and follows him. Little shit never has known what was good for him.

“Axel,” he says in his clear, lovely tenor voice which makes Axel’s mouth pool with saliva. Jesus, he wants to bite him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You need to leave me alone right now.”

“Friends don’t leave each other alone when one’s hurting,” says Roxas staunchly. Oh God. He halts in his tracks and whirls to face the younger boy.

“Is that what we are?” he sneers. “Friends? I’m not a very healthy friend for you to have Roxy, and you should know that by now. I don’t play well with others. And Roxy? The ways I want to play with you? They’re not very nice. Go. Away.”

Roxas, predictably, does not go away. He swallows, and his eyes are shining at Axel like stars. His lips part and he takes a deep breath.

“Axel,” he whispers, and his lashes lower over his blue eyes in a sweep of embarrassed modesty. “I….I want to…” he gulps and Axel sees a flush staining his cheeks. Shit, he’s adorable. Today, this just pisses Axel off more. Roxas’ next words turn his world on its ear. “I want to….play with you too,” he breathes.  Well hell.

“No,” say Axel with great certainty. “You don’t.”

“I…I think about you all the time,” gasps Roxas, rushing to get the words out, only now he’s looking up at Axel with sincerity shining in his eyes and his heart in his fucking mouth. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it. I can hardly sleep at night. You’re….you’re not just my best friend. Axel…I…”

“Stop,” snarls Axel, rage darkening his gaze so that he sees Roxas through a haze of red and black. The boy has no idea what he’s saying, what it means to Axel, and that he would come out with this now, when Axel can’t bear his own company, let alone anybody else’s,  and knows all he could do would be to hurt Roxas in his own rage and need and confusion. There is enough of sanity left in him to try to stop this particular train wreck from happening before it is too late.

Roxas, again predictably, simply _must_ utter a phrase that makes too late a moot point.

“I want you,” he whispers miserably, desperately, but with hope in his eyes and a trembling smile on his lips. Axel wants to bite that mouth, wants to wipe the smile off and hear Roxas scream for him. All the blood in his body rushes to his center and he closes his eyes briefly in a mute prayer to whatever misbegotten god might be listening. Clearly, none of them are paying attention at all, because adding lust to his rage pushes Axel over an edge he’s been dancing on for a long time now. Roxas takes a step towards him, one hand held out towards him, pleadingly. Axel can smell him, he’s so close, and the scent of his friend is maddening, and fuels his fire, all clean skin and sea salt and clean ocean. Must have come from Neverland then. The smell of the one person who has haunted his dreams of late does nothing to calm Axel’s anger. How dare he, how dare Roxas offer this to him now, when he cannot be objective about it and when all he is capable of doing is ruining everything? Desperately, he raises a hand to fireball his friend, but Roxas sees it coming and grabs his wrist. The touch sends a bolt of heat straight through Axel’s slim body and he wrenches free, breathing heavily. Sparks start to dance along his fingers and he gazes at Roxas from under lowered brows, panting heavily.

“Roxas?” he grinds out roughly.

“Y…yes?”

“ _Run.”_

Roxas, who is a foolish boy but not a stupid one, runs. Like a young rabbit he whirls on his heels and darts away, sprinting down the street and around a corner. Axel draws a great shuddering breath, and a slow feral smile spreads gradually across his face, crooked and hungry and predatory.  He’s pissed, he’s frightfully aroused, and his legs are much, much longer than Roxas’.

He leaps into action, his strides eating up the ground like a great hunting cat’s, and it is as if he can sense where Roxas is going as he flees blindly through the streets and alleys with their fake fronts and neon signs. The signs are like directional arrows to Axel, who follows unerringly. He’s not even breathing hard, but Roxas is getting tired, and he is gaining fast. After what seems a ridiculously short time, he corners the boy in an alley and is upon him. His fingers fist in the smaller boy’s coat and haul him forward, jerking him up on his toes. Roxas is frightened now. His fear is like sweet wine in Axel’s mouth. God, it’s good.

“Ah…ah Axel,” pleads Roxas once, and then Axel smashes his mouth down and shuts him the fuck up. Roxas makes an inarticulate noise as the kiss bruises and cuts him a little. Axel tastes the faint tang of blood and snarls. He shoves Roxas back against the wall and presses his wrists to the bricks above his head. His head dips down to bite hungrily at Roxas’ throat and collarbone. Roxas groans raggedly. Dimly, Axel is aware he’s hurting him, but he has run his prey to ground and captured him, and he is incapable of reason anymore. God, the taste of him! At last. He thinks it’s entirely possible he’s going to incinerate both of them right here and now. Furiously, blindly, he tears at Roxas’ organization coat, and his own. The boy’s skin feels cool against his own feverish burn. It does nothing to cool his ardor, or his rage. There is a roaring sound in his ears as he tears away black leather pants, and he’s not even capable of registering the fact that his victim is apparently just as aroused as he is. His hands fly like a blind man’s over Roxas’ skin. He can’t feel enough of his prize. He knows he is muttering mindlessly, but he can’t stop.

“Can’t stop, Roxy. Too late. Kiss me again. Jesus. Fuck. You’re so pretty. Mine now, sorry. Can’t stop. Can’t stop. God. Say yes Roxy, say yes.”

To his immense startlement, because he’s only peripherally aware of what he’s saying and knows it doesn’t matter whether Roxas say yes anymore anyway, he hears the boy’s voice. It trembles, and is choked with fear, but his answer gives Axel the world on a shiny silver platter.

“Yessss. Axel. Yes.”

He spins him around, uses his own spit to try to ready him at least a little. Roxas whimpers.

“Axel…hhnn…Axel!” he cries. Axel spins him back around and picks him up. Roxas’ legs go around his waist as he cradles the boy’s thighs with his burning hands and prepares to do what he has dreamed of for so long he can scarcely remember anything else.

“It’s gonna hurt, Rox,” he mutters, his face buried in Roxas’ throat. “I can’t…Jesus…I’m sorry. God. I can’t…hng….Jesus you taste good…”

“Axel,” whispers Roxas, and his hands with their keyblade calluses touch his face gently. “It’s….okay…I want you to.”

Oh god, the kid kills him. He lines himself up and he tries to be gentle, he really does, but he’s too far gone for it really, and Roxas is so delicious he wants to just _eat_ him. His little whines and mewls of pain do nothing to calm Axel’s need.

“Oh god oh god. Roxas. Ah….try to…hnn…relax. I’m…ohgod…I’m sorry. I can’t…. _fuck_. I can’t…stop. So fucking sweet. Gah. Let me…nnnn…Roxas!”

Roxas’ tears are like a drug when he licks them away, and his arms around Axel are fantastic, and his hot breath as he gasps and pants in pain and fear are gorgeous to him. No, Axel thinks, I’m not a nice person. Not at all. Jesus, I’m going to die, right here, right now, and I don’t care. This is….he’s….

“Axel,” whispers Roxas, his voice rough with tears. His hands fist in Axel’s flame bright hair and jerk hard, pulling his head back. Axel’s growl trickles out over his teeth and he knows his eyes are slits of mindless hunger as he gazes blindly at Roxas’ face.

“Hhnn?” he says interrogatively, and his arms tighten around Roxas’ thighs. Roxas leans in and kisses him softly. It is achingly tender, and causes Axel to slow the relentless assault of his powerful legs and hips driving himself into the smaller boy. Roxas’ small teeth sinking into his bottom lip are sharp and sudden and startling, the flash of pain bright and sweet.

“Shut up,” whispers Roxas. “And fuck me.”

So Axel does. But this dirty gorgeous plea has rendered his rage a caged thing again, and there is loving in it now, and they find a rhythm that works for them, and Roxas’ cries are soon not of pain anymore, and Axel’s eyes are clear a green as new Spring grass, his gaze unerringly fastened on the bright blue eyes that are his world now. They hurt each other, with nails and teeth and bruising grip, but it doesn’t matter now, because this…oh this…it is so honest, so real, and Axel feels his heart…his _HEART_ beating in his chest like it will pound its way out and swallow him whole. It beats for Roxas, who is wrapped around him so tightly he has lost track of where one of them ends and the other begins.

When they stagger back to the castle together, bruised and bleeding and aching all over, he points to the flowers he has burnt to ash, and Roxas laughs. The sound resonates inside Axel like promises kept, and his anger is safely diverted for another day. They are still laughing like loons at his description of the look on Saix’s face when he fireballed him earlier. They walk right past Roxas’ room, arm in arm, and when Axel follows his lover into his own rooms, he glances back over his shoulder. At the end of the hall, in the shadows, Saix watches them. The expression on his face is unreadable. Axel’s gaze doesn’t flinch. After a long moment, Saix inclines his head once in a nod, and backs way, turning and disappearing into the darkness.

Axel pauses before he follows Roxas into his room. He still thinks he’s being manipulated. He still thinks Saix is a toady and that Xemnas is leading them all down the road to hell, not salvation. He still thinks Xemnas knows this perfectly well too. He is still mightily afraid that there is something terribly wrong about Xion. But just now, with the scent of his lover on his own skin and the feel of his lover still making the palms of his hands tingle, he is a happy man. He doesn’t think he could incinerate much of anything right now. Well. Maybe the hippopotamus. Because that thing is just wrong. He turns and follows Roxas, and sees him sprawled across Axel’s bed, a very adult look on his face. His fingers stroke gently down his own throat, where Axel’s teeth have marked him.

“Did I hurt you too much Rox?” he asks, as gently as he can, and sits hesitantly beside him.

“Just a little,” says Roxas. “Is it…is it always like that?”

Jesus, the kid kills him. He swallows hard before he answers.

“Hm. Ah. Not always. But…Roxy…with me…it’s….often….like that. I…um…I get it if you wanna back out now. I….”

“Axel?”

“Yeah?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

And Roxas is on him and his mouth shuts Axel the fuck up and the kiss is sweet and tender and full of emotions neither of them are supposed to be capable of, and Axel knows with absolute certainty that this time, nothing’s going to hurt at all.


	2. Nobody Messes with Jack Sparrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axel gets an assignment he really, really doesn't want to take. Drama ensues. Roxas tags along because he's never been to Port Royal. Axel's bad day gets worse when he's forced to join forces with Captain Jack Sparrow.

He slouches into his room, sighing heavily. He’s being melodramatic but he doesn’t care. He’s good at it, after all, and why should he not do things he’s good at? Which, let’s face it, is anything he wants to do. Except swimming. Of course, he has no interest in swimming, so this is not a very good example. He realizes he’s distracting himself and shakes his head to clear it. Roxas is lounging on the bed. He’s not wearing a shirt. Axel thinks he looks like lunch, which makes him hungry, for food and for Roxas, but he’s enjoying being melodramatic too much to change tactics at the moment. He sighs again, more loudly, and throws himself facedown across the foot of the bed. Axel’s bed is enormous, not because he wanted it for nefarious purposes. Axel’s nefarious purposes occur whenever and wherever he happens to be (well, Roxas kind of has to be there too) when the mood strikes him. The actual surface involved is pretty inconsequential to him. Beds, floors, walls, doorways, alleys, kitchen cabinets (there was that one time with the kitchen table, and he thinks Xaldin believes Vexen broke it doing some sort of kitchen science thing, which is fine, and the new table is much sturdier anyway), the ground, the shower, in trees (that was interesting, but he got splinters in his legs and doesn’t think that one’s gonna be a repeat), and in other people’s rooms when they’re not around. The list is probably longer than that, but he refuses to be diverted from his fit of pique, at least until Roxas pays attention to him. No, the reason Axel’s bed is enormous is because he’s too tall for regular sized beds. Bits of him hang over the edges of regular beds, which he doesn’t find very restful. Now that he thinks about it, the only part of being a member of Organization XIII that he really truly loves is that he gets to order custom-made furniture. He has no idea where Xemnas gets it, or from whom (probably Oompah Loompahs or something) and doesn’t really care. Especially now, when he’s doing such a great job of being horribly put-upon. And being damn well ignored too! Roxas what the hell?

Roxas is trying very hard to sew up a tear in his coat, which is why he is unclothed from the waist up. His tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth, which Axel thinks is adorable, or he would think so if Roxas was paying attention to him. Which he is not. The fact that the coats allow them to travel unscathed through the Darkness and a hole in your coat could be disastrous is irrelevant. As is the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s the one who actually PUT the hole in Roxas’ coat. Roxas jabs his needle through the fabric and Axel flings an arm out in a despairing gesture with another (louder) sigh.

“Are you going to keep doing that until I ask you what’s wrong?” mutters Roxas around a mouthful of threaded needle.

“Yes.”

“Fine. What’s wrong, Axel? And you do realize that the last time I asked you that, you threw me up against a wall and…”

Axel eyes Roxas and the wall of his bedroom with interest, but makes a concerted effort NOT to be diverted from his snit. He’s enjoying it too much, and Roxas is finding it increasingly difficult not to smile at him. The list of things he’d do to make Roxas smile grows longer every day.

“I got my next assignment,” he moans. Roxas looks at him, waiting. Axel waits too. He waits some more, looking at Roxas expectantly. Will the boy never learn? Axel is so much more stubborn than he is! Well, as long as he doesn’t get distracted. At length, Roxas sighs.

“Oh all right. What’s your next assignment?”

“I have to go to Port Royal!”

Roxas looks blank.

“What’s wrong with Port Royal?”

Axel lifts his head and stares at him incredulously.

“You’ve never been there, have you?”

“Well….no. Not yet.”

“What’s wrong with Port Royal is it has Jack Sparrow in it!” cries Axel in aggrieved tones.  Roxas just looks at him blankly. Axel realizes the boy knows nothing whatsoever about Port Royal and wonders who the hell was in charge of his initiation and basic Nobody education, because he’s woefully uninformed. He remembers that it was him. The fault, he decides, clearly must be Roxas’ in some way therefore, as he himself is a truly excellent teacher.

“What’s wrong with Jack Sparrow?” asks Roxas, now vaguely interested in spite of himself. “I mean, aside from the fact that he’s named after a bird. He must be something pretty powerful if you’re scared of him!”

Well. Axel is forced to sit up at this point, and after glaring accusingly at Roxas for almost an entire ten seconds, he decides to illustrate to the silly boy that he himself is actually unspeakably strong, agile, powerful and has nothing to fear from _any_ one.

Quicker than a cat, he is across the wide expanse of bed and on Roxas like a hungry tiger. Before Roxas can do more than utter a sort of alarmed, strangled squeak, he is off the bed and dangling several feet off the floor, held aloft by an arm which is deceptively strong for all its slender grace. His face is beet red as he struggles to breathe. Axel’s hand is, after all, holding him up by the throat, which is Roxas’ own fault for not wearing his coat. What the hell else is Axel supposed to hold him by? His teeth are bared in a feral smile.

“Say that again, Roxy,” he purrs silkily, and damn if he doesn’t just flat _love_ the way Roxy’s pupils dilate in fear. Just a little. Roxas doesn’t really believe he’ll hurt him. Well. Ok, Roxas doesn’t really believe he’ll _damage_ him. There is also the fact that Roxas is currently incapable of speech.

Just as quickly as he found himself hauled into the air, Roxas finds himself deposited forcefully back onto the bed, where he bounces gracelessly for a couple of seconds before he lays still, rubbing his throat a little and coughing. He glares at Axel reproachfully and Axel grins unrepentantly.

“I think that’s gonna leave a bruise,” grumbles his lover. Axel laughs at the absurdity of this complaint, eyeing several other noticeable marks on Roxas’ admittedly tasty upper body. Following Axel’s gaze, Roxas rolls his eyes and pouts at him. He’s pretty when he pouts, which causes Axel to be diverted from his snit for a few seconds, which leave Roxas’ lips a little swollen and both of them breathing heavily. There isn’t time for more. Besides, snit.

“Fine,” gasps Roxas, attempting to regain his dignity and composure so he can finish his coat. “Why don’t you like this Jack Sparrow person?”

“He’s not a person, he’s a pirate,” mutters Axel darkly. “And what’s wrong with him is he’s the most irritating person I’ve ever met. He thinks he’s so clever, so hot. He thinks he’s famous and awesome, and he acts like a fucking princess with his stupid hat and his big swirly coat.”

Roxas is looking at him speculatively. Axel has resorted to pacing and waving his arms as he gives voice to this tirade. He whirls suspiciously on Roxas when he’s almost certain he hears him mutter, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“What did you say?” he asks keenly, with narrowed eyes.

“Nothing. Sounds terrible,” says Roxas quickly, covering his throat with one hand. “Hey, why don’t I come with you?”

Axel brightens at this. All that water and the ships and Jack fucking Sparrow aside, having Roxas along will make up for a lot. He beams at Roxas and then frowns suddenly, poking Roxas in the chest.

“Okay,” he says shrewdly. “But if you let that pirate mack on you, you’re not going to like what happens, Roxy. Got that memorized?”

Roxas makes a face at him and shoves a little, which Axel doesn’t really mind, because who wants to date a doormat, honestly?

“Don’t be an ass, Axel,” he grouses, sitting down and picking his needle back up. “I can’t help it if people look at me. Anyway, it only matters if I’m lookin’ back.”

“Better not,”  mutters Axel darkly. Roxas rolls his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter where I look, you dick,” he mumbles around the needle he’s put back in his mouth, for reasons Axel has never been able to ascertain, although it’s sort of cute, “I can’t ever see anybody but you.”

See, there. Kid keeps saying shit like that, this heart he hasn’t got is just gonna fuckin’ break. Damn.  He waits with ill-concealed impatience while Roxas finishes sewing up his coat, then Axel inspects it thoroughly. He pokes and prods at the stitching, turning Roxas this way and that to make sure there are no more holes, until Roxas gets irritated at him and shoves him again, smacking at his hands when Axel growls and insists.

“Gotta take care of you, Roxy,” he says stubbornly.

“Axel!” cries Roxy, exasperated, which you know, must be like his favorite state of mind cause he sure acts this way a lot. And it isn’t like Axel’s irritating. Or overbearing. Or overprotective. Maybe Roxas just finds awesomeness exasperating. Too bad for him. “There. Are. No. More. Holes!”

So eventually Axel, who may or may not be actually stalling a little, sighs and swipes open a portal. They step through. It’s hard to really describe the corridors to someone who can’t use them. They’re sort of nowhere and everywhere all at once. He doesn’t know what they’d be like without the protection of the coat, although sometimes he has a weird sensation like the darkness out there is alive, plucking and grasping at his coattails, hoping to get ahold of him, to rip and tear and suck him down, howling, until he’s gone forever. He doesn’t tell anyone this, because they’d probably laugh, and besides that, there is the fact that Axel’s quite comfortable with the fact that Xemnas thinks he’s a hot-tempered, bubble-brained diva.

Axel doesn’t like Port Royal, the irritating presence of Jack Sparrow aside. It’s wet.  He can’t imagine why Xemnas didn’t send Demyx. Demyx loves this shit. Demyx loves pirates. He loves the water. He loves boats. He’d probably love Jack Sparrow too if it wouldn’t piss Zexion off too much. Does Zexion get pissed off?

“Demyx only gets sent on recon and you know it,” says Roxas, looking around with bright, curious eyes, interested in everything because he’s never seen it before, and Axel becomes aware he’d been speaking out loud. He huffs out a sigh and stomps towards the pier. Roxas follows him, craning his neck to get a look at the street vendors with their trays and carts of fish and nets and sailcloth. Axel hates fish. He reaches back without looking, because Roxas is like a magnet and he can always feel where he is, snagging the younger boy’s wrist and tugging him along.

“Where are we going, Axel?” he asks, being remarkably good-natured about being manhandled. Come to think of it, Roxas is always good natured about being manhandled, which is fortunate because Axel really LIKES manhandling him……………..

……..

…

“Axel?”

“Hhmmm?” he asks absently. He’s in a good place right now, far far away from oceans and boats and stupid pirates.

“AXEL!”

“What? I’m listening, geez.”

“Where are we going?”

“To do this stupid mission without encountering Miss Look at my Hat I’m so KEWL and go the hell home.”

“Okay,” says Roxas agreeably. “What’s the mission?”

“Don’t you ever pay attention, Roxy?”

“Mm,” says Roxas. “Like when you told me allllll about Port Royal during training?”

“Exactly. Wait.” He turns and glares at Roxas, who is looking remarkably innocent  and smiling. “Fine. Maybe I forgot to mention what we’re doing here. You should know better than to just follow people blindly into danger, y’know.”

“I’ll follow _you_ anywhere, Axel.”

Jesus. Kid’s gonna kill him. Surely Roxas realizes that Axel IS dangerous.  He sighs, and they continue down to the pier.

“Something is eating heartless,” he says as they walk. “Xemnas isn’t sure what it is, but out near one of the godforsaken ass end of nowhere islands, they’re just disappearing. If you and Xion aren’t killing them, that means fewer hearts for Kingdom Hearts and a longer wait for all of us.” (If, he thinks darkly, that’s even true, Xemnas, you dick.)

“So…why didn’t we come out on the island where it’s happening?” asks Roxas, skipping a little to keep up.  Axel couls excuse himself by saying sometimes he forgets how long his legs are, but he doesn’t like to lie. Well, not more than he already is, anyway.

“Xemnas said _near_ one of the islands. And the trouble with _near_ an island is that it means not ON the island. And that means water. And I don’t swim. So we need a damn boat. And that means we gotta get it here.”

“Ohh. Okay, sounds fun!”

Fun? Fun!? Axel closes his eyes against the sudden urge to set Roxas’ hair on fire and see if he thinks THAT is fun. He settles for a withering glare, and the go charter a damn boat. The weasley little old fucker they talk to calls it a pinnace, but Axel couldn’t care less what the hell it’s called. It’s fast (for a BOAT, ugh) and will get them there, and it comes with a couple of guys to sail it for them. Which is good, because Axel doesn’t sail, and he doubts Roxas does either.

The pinnace is about 30 feet long, which is pretty small for a sailing vessel, but it’s part of what makes it fast. They’d be in trouble if they got into a sea battle with pirates or the navy, but the point of a pinnace isn’t firepower, it’s speed. Of course, Axel half-wishes someone WOULD try them. He grins, more are baring of teeth than an actual smile. He knows Xemnas sent him here on purpose. Xemnas may be an asshole, but he’s not stupid. If he hasn’t noticed Axel acting weird, it’s only because Saix is too far up his ass for him to be bothered. Of course, he thinks darkly, he’s pretty sure it’s the other way around in practice. Him and….Isa…their relationship wasn’t like that, they were friends….he doesn’t even think Isa was….which makes him all the angrier, thinking about what Xemnas does, probably every night, may even be doing right now, to Saix. And Saix takes it, treats him like he’s god and Saix wants nothing more to worship at the Altar of Xemnas. He grits his teeth and stares resolutely at the horizon as they head out to sea, paying no attention to the small group of sailors pulling on ropes and messing with sails and stuff. He wouldn’t know what they’re doing anyway. Roxas comes and stands beside him, and that’s a little better. At least with Roxas, he knows HIS partner wants to be here, knows he isn’t using his position as mentor to take advantage. He worried about that at first, resisted his feelings because of it, since Roxas was so impossibly innocent and beautiful and the things he thought and dreamed made Axel feel like a complete bastard. Then there had been THAT day.  He’d been so angry, so confused. What would have happened, he wonders, if when Saix had showed up in the garden, instead of throwing a fireball, he’d asked, “Is he hurting you, Saix? Do you need help? Do you want him, or is it….” No. He couldn’t ask, can’t ask. Probably doesn’t want to know the answer. He’d run instead, and then there had been Roxas. Oh, he’s tried to apologize, knows he had hurt his best friend, his love. Roxas calls him stupid when he tries, shoves at him, goes on tiptoes to kiss him, tugs at his hair, tells him everything is great, wonderful, he loves all of it, even when it hurts a little. Gotta wonder about the kid sometimes. Then again, maybe sometimes they need to know they’re still alive, or pretend they are, or something. Maybe that’s why sometimes they’re rough with each other, because it makes them FEEL. Roxas’ hand slides into Axel’s and Axel sighs, putting aside the dark train his thoughts are on, and watches the place where the sea and sky meet. This turns out to be a bad idea, because it makes his stomach roll unpleasantly. He finds a bench to sit on and keeps his eyes on the deck, the water, Roxas….which isn’t, you know, a bad view at all.

They reach the vicinity of the islands near which the most heartless have vanished. There are several small islands, each as picturesque as the next, with white sand beaches and palm trees and sawgrass and trees that have some other kinds of fruits on them. Mangos maybe? Papayas? They’re not bananas, and Axel’s tropical fruit identification skill ends there. Now that they’re here, he’s not entirely sure what to do. Sail around in circles and hope they happen to see something? Well, he decides with great finality, if he has to loiter around here waiting for heartless and whatever’s killing them to show up he’s by god not doing it on a wretched boat!

One of the sailors rows them to shore and lets them out, telling them he’ll return for them when they ring the brass bell he thrusts into Axels hands.  This island being, as far as anyone knows, uninhabited means there is no dock or pier. Which in turn, Axel discovers to his disgust, means they have to get out of the dinghy several feet from shore and WADE the rest of the way. What the hell? The Flurry of Dancing Flames does not _wade_. To compensate himself for this indignity, he gripes about it loudly and  at great length. He takes off his boots with ill grace, glaring at Roxas who has good-naturedly hopped over the side and splashed to shore, laughing at him over his shoulder. Axel hikes his coat laboriously up above his knees with one arm while clutching his boots in the other and steps carefully over the side. The movement causes the dinghy to rock, and when Axel leans on it for support, it scoots backwards out from under his arm.

Sea water, he discovers to his grief, tastes HORRIBLE. For a few seconds when the water closes over his head, Axel is seized by the feeling that he is drowning, but since he’s way too awesome to ever REALLY panic, he reminds himself severely of the depth here, and stands up, dripping, spluttering, and furious. Ignoring the sailor snickering behind him (though he makes note of what the idiot looks like. There will be blood. Oh yes.), he slogs to shore Roxas is unhelpfully rolling on the sand laughing his ass off. Snarling, Axel reaches out with one hand and fireballs his asshole lover.

At least, he intends to. His fire spits and fizzles a little, then nothing happens. Roxas howls louder, pointing up at him and hooting about how he wishes Axel could see his own face. He stands over the boy, his eyes slitted daggers of emerald fire. He looks briefly over his shoulder and sees that the sailor has rowed back to the ship and they are alone.

“So you think it’s funny,” he muses darkly.

“Oh God, Axel. I’m sorry, but you look hilarious,” gasps Roxas. Roxas, who is sitting there in the golden sand. With dry hair. And a dry coat. Hmm.

Roxas yelps in shock when he finds himself hauled unceremoniously into the air. Axel’s body may be as slender as a deadly blade, but he’s as strong as one too, and really tall. Roxas dangles uselessly for a few seconds, growing red in the face and yelling at Axel  to put him down. Axel does so, although he’s pretty sure Roxas doesn’t approve of his choice of locations. It’s kind of impressive the actual distance Axel actually manages to get with a human discus. Roxas lands a good twenty feet out in the water, vanishing from sight with an enormous splash.

Now they are both dripping wet, which is only fair. Since they’re going to be waiting around anyway, they strip off their coats and set their wet things out to dry. It actually is kind of nice here, with the ocean breeze and warm sand and the view. They walk a little ways up the beach so that their ship is out of sight. The fact that nobody can see them is not lost on Axel, who decides that it would speed things along beautifully if they took off ALL their clothes to let them dry. Roxas has remarkably few objections to this notion. Ok, that’s not actually remarkable. Roxas, since he has discovered sex, is an enthusiastic pupil. The sun is warm on Roxas’ skin so that it almost matches the heat which is always inherent in Axel’s own, and the way he sighs softly when Axel touches him is prettier than anything he’s ever heard. There’s something really decadent about doing this under the open sky in broad daylight.  He’s not feeling particularly annoyed anymore, not with Roxas kissing him that way, and he doesn’t want to hurt him (or himself for that matter). Never let it be said that the Flurry of Dancing Flames could be thwarted by mere lack of supplies. They manage just fine, thanks.  Axel’s fucking inventive, and Roxas  is willing to try just about anything.

The pleasant sleepy haze of post-coital bliss is shattered when Axel shifts lazily and rolls to face Roxas, intending to throw a leg over the smaller boy’s thigh and nuzzle under his ear a little, murmur to him how great he is, how that was great, that everything’s great. This is when he becomes aware that everything is not, in fact, great.

“What. The. Fuck?” Axel grits out in horror. Roxas turns to face him, concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I _itch,”_ cries Axel, aggrieved.

“Um,” says Roxas, biting his lip and Axel swears to whatever gods you want that if he laughs, he’s killing him. Here and now. “Maybe you should have been a little less…mobile?” he suggest gently.

“I itch EVERYWHERE,” growls Axel accusingly.

“Axel,” says Roxas reasonably. “It’s sand. What did you think was going to happen?”

“Sand does this?”

“Well….obviously. We can just go rinse off though, it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Rinse OFF? I’m not getting back in that water! It’s probably poisonous! And what if the thing that’s eating heartless shows up? I can’t use fire when I’m wetter than a drowned rat, Roxas! Roxas…there is _sand_ on my….in my….FUCK. I hate this place!” yells Axel furiously. Roxas goes and rinses himself off in the ocean. Axel ignores him and snarls while he uses his mostly-dry pants to wipe off the sand. It isn’t very effective. There’s sand in his underwear once he’s dressed. He’s  back to being annoyed again.

“You’ve got a terrible sunburn, mate,” says a voice from behind him. He freezes in the act of pulling on his shirt and whirls, his chakram appearing in his hands and, gratifyingly, blazing up beautifully.

“Identify yourself,” he hisses, sensing Roxas coming up beside him, keyblade in hand. A man steps out from behind a cluster of palm trees, leaning negligently against a trunk and grinning sardonically. Axel takes in the battered leather tricorne hat, beads and trinkets clicking and chiming in long brown braids and dreads (I mean really, who does that? Well, aside from Xaldin, but Axel questions his hair choice too.), the  long brown coat with its bronze braid, the cutlass and matching flintlocks, the melting chocolate eyes full of amusement, lined with black kohl (and come on, it looks like he hasn’t washed it off and reapplied in like WEEKS so just please). Great. Just great.

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” says the man, removing his hat and bowing grandly, his lips still twitching with amusement. “And who might you chaps be?”

“I’m Roxas,” volunteers his traitorous boyfriend. “And this is Axel. We’re with…” he coughs when Axel elbows him hard in the gut.

“I know who you are, mate,” says Sparrow, gazing speculatively at Axel who is definitely NOT gazing speculatively back. “Question is, what are you doing here?”

“None of your business, Sparrow. Just go crawl back under whatever coconut you came from and leave us alone.”

“’Fraid I can’t do that, mate,” drawls the pirate comfortably. “See, something’s  been noshing on some of me mates, and now as I come to find you here, I’m after thinking you’ve something to do with it, savvy?”

Who even talks like that? Jesus, what a fruitcake. Axel hates fruitcake. He is, however, overcome with a sudden sense of impending doom.

“Are you trying to say in your ridiculous uneducated way that something has been eating pirates?” he asks through his teeth.

“Aye, that’s what I said,” agrees Sparrow.

“Fuck,” sighs Axel.

“Hey, something’s eating heartless, too,” explains Roxas. “That’s why we’re here! I bet it’s the same thing!”

Axel rolls his eyes. Unfortunately, he’s afraid Roxas is probably right.

“Right,” he mutters, then looks coolly at the pirate. “We’ll handle this, Sparrow. You can go back to your boat and…. Do whatever it is you do when you’re not bothering me.” He jerks his chin at Roxas and turns on his heel to stalk off down the beach. Roxas, fortunately for him, obeys. Unfortunattely, Sparrow follows along too.

“Sorry, mate. No can do,” he says, falling in step with them. Axel is deeply embittered by the fact that the pirate doesn’t appear to have to trot to keep up with him like Roxas does. Probably it’s because this wretched sand in no way behaves like the ground should, shifting and sliding under his feet instead and just who the FUCK ever though making ground out of something this horrible was a good idea? “But I’ll be glad to help you with your little problem, seeing as how we’re here for the same reason. Or, well, one assumes, though whatever’s a heartless I’m sure I don’t know. Still, if they’re your mates and they’re getting noshed, that’s no good. Three’s better than two, wouldn’t you say?”

“No,” says Axel flatly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Axel,” murmurs Roxas, plucking at his sleeve, “you know, maybe he’s right. He knows more about this area than we do, and maybe he knows something about what’s been happening, too.”

“Listen to your pretty friend,” agrees Jack with a leer at Roxas.  Axel grits his teeth and snarls.

“Stay. Away. From Roxas,” he says darkly. Jack laughs and holds up his hands innocently.

“Easy there, mate.  Far be it from me to step in the path of true love. Although,” he continues meditatively, his dark eyes roving over Axel’s boy’s body approvingly and making Axel long to dismember him. Slowly. “If you ever get tired of the firebrand here, boy, you come pay old Jack a visit, savvy?”

“His name’s Axel,” says Roxas loyally, “memorize it. And no, thank you.” Axel momentarily forgets the sand in his pants and graces Roxas with a smile so brilliant it makes Roxas catch his breath and then smile back. Sparrow rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath.  Gratified, Axel eyes Sparrow and sighs heavily. As much as he’d love to bury the bastard in the sand and torch the whole island, he has a mission to accomplish. His rebellion has yet to go so far that he’s ready to tell Xemnas to suck it when it comes to doing his job, and if he doesn’t want the yellow-eyed freak (he steadfastly ignores the voice in his head that whispers that once Isa had turquoise eyes, and that he had thought they were lovely, even if things hadn’t been like that between him and Isa, and now Saix’s eyes are yellow too and what does that mean? Yellow like Xigbar. Yellow like Xemnas. Yeah, there’s a fucking reason for it that has shit to do with getting their hearts back, he’s sure of it) to realize that Axel might not be such a good little soldier anymore.  And he’s out of his (ha) depth here because he can’t swim and thus his knowledge of Port Royal and its surrounding environs is a little sketchy. They’re going to have to work with this prima donna asshat of a pirate. He wonders how much trouble he’d really get in if he kills Sparrow when they’re done. More than he wants, unfortunately, because for some reason Xemnas forbids them to do anything to fuck things up in any of the worlds, at least in ways he hasn’t instructed. Damn.

“All right, Sparrow,” he sighs reluctantly. “What do you know?”

“In general, you mean?” smirks the pirate, unscrewing the cap of a flask and taking a healthy slug of whatever’s in it. Rum, probably. Axel could use a stiff drink himself about now, but the thought of putting his mouth anywhere Jack Sparrow’s has been turns his stomach.

“Oh sure,” says Axel sarcastically. “Just start as far back as you can remember. What’s that, last week if you’re lucky, you sot? No, Jack. About the thing that’s eating your….pirates.”

“Captain,” mutters Sparrow.

“What?”

“CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” cries Axel helplessly. “I’m not calling you that! I’m not a pirate, I don’t even live here. You can be Admiral for all I care, just answer the damn question.”

“You’re a very angry person, anyone ever told you that, mate?” asks Jack curiously, tipping his hat back to scratch his head. Axel wonders how it stays on. “Might be you should find a way to relieve some of that stress or you’ll just  go off like a cannon shot. Boom!”

“What I’ll just,” purrs Axel menacingly, “is just set your hat on fucking fire. Would you like that? Captain?”

“No need to get unpleasant,” says Jack defensively. “Only tryin to help, mate. Right. What I know, then, is it? And why is it, I might ask, that I should be trusting you blokes?”

“Because,” snarls Axel through his teeth, “when we find whatever’s eating your pirates and our heartless, I can do THIS.” He spins and shoots a fireball at a coconut that has, at that very moment, come loose from a tree some twenty or so yards away and begun to plummet to the ground. His aim is, as ever, good, so the thing vanishes in a blaze of heat and a puff of ash. Jack stares at the place where the coconut had been, his eyebrows vanishing up under the edge of the red scarf covering his head.

“Right,” he murmurs softly. “Handy, that. All right. Some blokes I know….er…knew, I suppose it is now, they’d come out to this…vicinity…to look for some booty an associate had supposedly left on one of these islands.”

“Buried treasure?” asks Roxas with interest.

“Well,” says the pirate with a wry grin, “a buried body, at any rate, with a few valuables stowed about his person. So, in a manner of speaking.”

“Get on with it,” says Axel impatiently.

“How do you live with this bloke?” Jack asks Roxas in fascination. “He’s not a very happy person. Or a patient one. Tell the truth then, boyo. He a two minute wonder?”

Roxas blushes, as he always does when it comes to talking about his sex life with anybody besides Axel (and actually he still gets embarrassed talking about it with Axel too sometimes. It’s pretty adorable), and tells Jack to mind his own business. Axel grits his teeth against the urge to make Roxas answer in a way that actually manages to tell the pirate how wrong he is, rather than pretty much telling Jack he’s right, but since mostly his goal isn’t to distress Roxas unduly, he tells himself a couple dozen times that what some stupid pirate believes about him doesn’t matter. Mostly, he succeeds. He glares pointedly at Sparrow, waiting for him to get on with the damn story.

“At any rate,” says Jack eventually, during which space of time Axel’s pretty sure he could have killed the idiot at least half a dozen times, “ their ship didn’t come back. Only one of them returned, and that was days later and due to the devilishly good luck of being picked up in their life boat by a merchant vessel instead of a military one or another pirate ship. When they brought him back, he was a bit the worse for wear, if you get my meaning, and right out of his head. I went to see him, after he’d got over the shock.  Everyone said he’d gone off his rocker, and I think maybe he has done, but I don’t like what he did manage to say, not a bit of it.”

“What did he say” asks Roxas, interested in spite of himself and ignoring Axel’s withering glare.

“He said as how the sea rose up and swallowed them.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” complains Axel.

“He said as how the sea had too many arms and a mouth full of daggers, and eyes like saucers,” replies Jack with dignity.

“Well that clears things up.”

“I’m fair certain it does,” says Sparrow loftily. “There’s things as live in the sea that are all those things. Most of them like deep ocean, savvy? But there’s a few as would come right up to shore if they were hungry enough. There were seventeen men on that crew, so it must be pretty peckish, if you catch my drift.”

Axel realizes he has no idea whether heartless can swim or not. He supposes they must be able to do something like it, at least, because if the thing, whatever it is, is eating people and shadows out of the water, they have to be mucking about in it too. He doesn’t think they have mouths, so probably it’s just that they don’t need to breathe. He’s frustrated,  because despite the fact that they’re obviously on the right track, it doesn’t seem they’re actually any closer to getting  the hell out of here than they were an hour ago.

Suddenly he gets that biting-on-tinfoil sensation in his brain that signals a portal, and he’s whirling about to look for it before Roxas and Jack get any hint that something’s happening. He is thus ready when the black doorway blooms behind them and a black-coated individual steps through. For a split second when all he can really see yet is the opening, and the booted foot and hem of the coat, Axel tenses. Once the person is all the way through though, he relaxes, while Roxas and Jack are still looking confused. Only one person has shoulder pads like that.

“Demyx,” he says with relief, because maybe Xemnas has wised up about the better choice to run this mission at last. “What’s up?”

“Gotta message for you, dude,” says Demyx, shoving his hood back and grinning at all of them. His eyes sparkle and Axel can see him taking deep breaths of the sea air. See, Demyx really loves this shit!

“A message? You’re not our relief?”

“No way man, this job’s too much like real work. Who wants to wander around in circles all day trying to find something when nobody knows where it is or WHAT it is? Besides, I get credit for volunteering, cause I totally did, to bring you this message.”

Axel sighs heavily. God damn Xemnas anyway.

“What message?” he asks irritably.

“Oh yeah,” says Demyx brightly. “Xemnas wants me to tell you that some dusks just reported that they saw something in the water on the other side of….” He squints a little and scratches his head.

“Are you kidding me right now?” says Roxas. “You come to tell us where we need to be and you don’t remember where that IS?”

“I remember, just gimme a minute,” says Demyx defensively. Privately, Axel’s pretty sure at least some of Demyx’s airhead routine is an act. Whether it is to keep from getting assigned hazardous or difficult duties or to make sure people underestimate him, Axel’s not sure, but since he employs similar tactics from time to time, he can’t really get mad at Demyx for it. “Oh,” exclaims the Melodious Nocturne at last, pulling a small stack of notecards out of his pocket and flipping through them until he brightens. “yeah that’s it! The other side of the Devil’s Teeth.”

Axel closes his eyes for a second and wonders helplessly if anybody here EVER says anything that makes sense. Demyx, being Demyx, slithers out of helping and out of the world before Axel even has time to call him a dick. Too bad he likes the guy, cause an outlet for all this irritation wouldn’t suck! He sighs.

“Devil’s Teeth, Sparrow,” he demands.

“We’re IN the Devil’s Teeth, mate,” says Sparrow like Axel’s a moron. “That’s the name the locals use for this little string of islands.”

“They’re awfully pretty to be called something like that,” says Roxas doubtfully. Jack looks at the boy speculatively and smiles. It’s not a nice smile.

“What makes you think evil isn’t ever pretty, boy?” he purrs suggestively. Axel’d punch him in his sexy little smirk if it’d do any good, but it’s hard to argue. Evil is, in fact, often breathtakingly pretty. “Any rate,” continues the pirate. “We should shove off. We can sail around to the leeward side within a couple of hours, and maybe our culprit will still be there.”

As it turns out, Sparrow’s vessel isn’t nearby. His answer when Axel presses him on this is evasive at best. It’s hard to tell with the cagey pirate though. If words are coming out of his mouth, there’s probably only about a 50% chance that they’re true on a good day, even if Jack has no reason to lie! Thus it is that Axel is required to splash back out into the sticky, salty, unpleasantly warm water (it feels like blood on his skin) and get back into the stupid lifeboat. He manages not to submerge himself this time, at least. They return to the little ship with Sparrow along for the ride. Because he doesn’t give a shit who’s in charge of the pinnace, and is pretty sure Sparrow knows these waters better than the scraggly men who came with the rental, Axel imperiously informs them they will answer to Captain Jack now, and then puts them all out of his head. The day has crawled slowly onwards, and the sun is riding low in the sky as they bring the ship about and head north to circumnavigate the little island chain. The crap thing about travelling onboard a ship, especially one this small, is that there just isn’t very much to do when you’re not a member of the crew. Once things are underway, the captain of the vessel almost falls into the same category, as his crew takes care of all the minutia and he’s only needed for emergencies or to approve minor course adjustments. This puts paid to Axel’s idea of keeping Jack occupied with running the ship and staying out of his way.

Technically, Jack does stay out of their way, posing himself on the vessel’s tiny aft castle where the helm is located. He’s dismissed the helmsman, and Axel would bet every munny he owns that Sparrow does it because he knows he looks dashing and romantic up there, controlling the helm, his dark eyes brooding at the horizon where the sun has almost sunk out of sight, the wind in his hair. Jack only broods at the horizon for a few minutes until his eyes are drawn to a much more interesting sight. Roxas.

Roxas is, of course, well worth a look or two. He’s so damned enthusiastic about every new experience. It’s pretty weird how little the boy remembers about his life as Sora, so that practically everything he does is a new experience. Hell, for all Axel knows, the Sora kid wasn’t even a virgin. Imagine forgetting about sex! So Roxas is like this snowy white, unblemished blank canvas. With, by now, some really interesting swirls and splashes of dark red that Axel has painted on his body and into his amazing mind (and perhaps the heart he doesn’t have as well). He’s pretty, and he’s strong and pleasing to the eye, and his smile lights up the deepening dusk as he wanders around the ship asking the sailors questions and taking everything in like a sponge. Axel can’t decide whether he wants to watch Roxas or watch Jack watch Roxas. When a glance at the pirate reveals him pressing absently at the crotch of his breeches while his black gaze lazily devours Axel’s lover, the decision is as good as made.

“Roxas,” he calls softly from the place he has found to stand and lurk, against the wall of the forecastle and hidden in the deep shadow of its small overhang. Roxas comes to him immediately, which makes Axel’s teeth flash whitely in the gloom as he grins. Let Jack try that one, see where it gets him.

“What’s up?” asks Roxas.

“Nothing,” says the older boy softly. “I just wanted to be near you.”

“Oh,” says Roxas, blushing a little and giving Axel a smile so sweetly uncomplicated that Axel wants to just bite him. “Okay.”

Axel pulls Roxas close, their eyes shining faintly in the shadow of the forecastle, and kisses him softly. Roxas makes a small sound against Axel’s lips, but it is not protest. Axel nibbles softly at his lover’s bottom lip, then laves the tiny sting with his tongue and deepens the kiss. When he pulls back, they are both breathing a little harder.

“Just stay here with me for a while?” asks Axel quietly, because he doesn’t want to tell Roxas he cannot stand the pirate’s eyes on his property. Roxas occasionally protests to being called property. Occasionally he doesn’t protest it at all, like when Axel is with him, in him, and there is nothing but what they feel and Axel hisses in his ear, “Mine.”  Roxas agrees and Axel turns him around and pulls Roxas against his body, resting his chin on the shorter nobody’s head so that they both gaze out at the sea. Well, Roxas does. Axel lets him think that’s what he’s looking at too, but in reality he locks eyes with Jack Sparrow, who is looking back, his black eyes sharp and unreadable, a sardonic smile twitching at one corner of his mouth.

Organization coats have deep pockets. This is mostly not something he spares any thought for at all, but he’s glad of it right now. With his gaze glued to Jack’s, hot and defiant and challenging, he slides his hands into the pockets of Roxas’ coat. Deep inside. Until through the lining, he presses his palms against the front of Roxas’ pants. Roxas makes a sort of alarmed, strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Axel,” he hisses, outraged, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He squirms and tries to pull away. Axel doesn’t have much leverage, and Roxas won’t have any trouble escaping his grasp if he really wants to.

“Don’t,” murmurs Axel, his lips pressed to the skin behind Roxas’ ear. His eyes slide up to where the pirate stands at the helm, watching, and now grinning tauntingly at Axel as Roxas protests. “Roxy. Roxas. Don’t. Stay here. Let me. Come apart for me, Rox, right here where they could see if they looked. Because I want you to.”

This time the sound Roxas makes is more like a needy whine. Axel lifts his head and stares unblinkingly at Sparrow as he softly rubs the palm of his hand in small circles and Roxas arches helplessly in his arms and bites his lips. Everything about Axel is clever, including his fingers, and he knows what Roxas likes. He scratches the rough cloth of his lover’s fly with his fingernails and Roxas gasps. Axel’s bright green eyes pin Jack Sparrow with hot defiance. He knows Sparrow can hear exactly what message he’s sending.

“Mine,” he thinks coldly, making Roxas whimper. “Mine, and you can’t touch. I can do this to him, under your nose, and there’s nothing you can do. He’s mine, you bastard. You fuck.  D’you see what you can’t have?”

It isn’t long before Roxas is arching against Axel’s hands and turning his head to bury it in Axel’s shoulder, his small white teeth worrying at the fabric of Axel’s coat as Axel pushes him over the edge, feeling his shivers, and grinning triumphantly at the man at the ship’s helm. Jack tips his hat to Axel with a nod, and goes back to looking out to sea.

While Roxas does his best to act affronted at what Axel’s done to him (“It’s not like I have a spare pair of pants, Axel,” he complains, and Axel laughs.), there is a shout from the tiny crow’s nest, followed by a sudden surge of frenetic activity. Something has been spotted in the water.

Frustrated at his lack of applicable skills, Axel waits with clenched fists for the ship to come about and pursue the disturbance. There’s a lot of splashing going on off to one side. He can see it in the moonlight. Something dark flies up in the air, and as it tumbles down, Axel is pretty sure he catches a tiny glimpse of bright yellow eyes in the flat black.

“Shadows,” he breathes, pointing so Roxas can see. It’s true. Whatever is in the water is wreaking havoc on a group of shadows as they are on their way to who knows where. He’s not sure, but he thinks it looks like a long snakelike tentacle reaches up and snags the shadow out of the air, vanishing beneath the gentle waves. It’s the monster.

“KRAKEN,” shrieks one of the sailors, pointing a shaking finger. Others take up the shrill warning, and men start to dart about on the deck like a bunch of panicked chickens. Axel doesn’t like chickens. He met some once. They’re creepy, with their beady yellow eyes and their legs like lizards and their sharp pointy beaks. Taking Roxas’ hand, he tugs him through the milling throng and up to the helm where Jack stands, staring at the tumult in the water with narrowed eyes.

“What is it?” he demands sharply.

“Oh, they’re right, mate,” says Jack solemnly, “that’s a Kraken all right. I’ve met one. Grant you, she was a damned sight biggern’ that one there.”

“Are you seriously telling me that’s a sea monster?” Axel asks incredulously.

“Oh aye,” says Jack easily, still staring out at the splashing, which has sort of resolved itself into a bunch of tentacles and an occasional large eye. He frowns. “A baby one.”

“A baby kraken?”

“Aye. His mum’s dead. Saw her body washed ashore with me own eyes. Bit tragic, that…seeing something so powerful left to rot like jetsam.”

“And that,” says Axel, gesturing out to sea with one arm, “is its offspring??”

“Aye, I did say as how it was a small one, didn’t I, mate?”

“It’s almost as big as this boat,” Axel points out needlessly.

“It’s mum was bigger than the Dutchman,” muses Jack, still watching shrewdly. “Do you know,” he says suddenly, turning on Axel and raising a finger to make a point. “I don’t think he’s trying to eat them. I think he’s trying to play with them, only he’s too young and he’s hungry so he just gives em a bit of a nosh. He can’t help it.”

Axel breathes in through his nose at the twinge of sorrow in the pirate’s voice, because if anybody is a sucker for sadness and lost things it’s….

“That’s so sad,” says Roxas softly. God damn it.

“Roxas,” he says as calmly as possibly under the circumstances. “Did you forget the part where it’s eating heartless? Oh, and PEOPLE?”

“I know,” says Roxas reluctantly. “I guess I just feel a little sorry for it.”

“Do you understand that we have to stop it?” asks Axel keenly, watching Roxas’ face sharply. Roxas frowns and his shoulders sag. “Unless you can think of another way to make it stop, we have to kill it, Rox. It can’t do what it’s doing. Plus, if it’s a baby, and it doesn’t know how to take care of itself, eventually it’s going to die anyway and it’ll suffer.”

“Kraken are smart,” muses Jack, still looking out at the splashes and turmoil out in the water. “They’re born smart. Magical, you know. Deep water creatures. He shouldn’t be this close to shore. Lookin for his mum, I suppose, and got turned about a bit. Could be we could maybe just…explain the situation to him a bit and help him on his way and he’d stop being a bother, savvy?”

“Explain….” splutters Axel.

“The situation, aye,” agrees Jack.

“It can _talk?_ ” asks Roxas in surprise.

“Well, not as such. But it can likely understand speech just fine.”

“And how do you propose we get it to not eat us long enough to listen to you?” demands Axel, who is secure enough to admit to himself that the prospect of frying a sea monster was going to go a long way towards making up for what he’s had to endure on this mission.

“Well, he nothing but a wee lad,” says Jack, hunching his shoulders a bit and looking almost embarrassed. “We can just be….firm with him.”

“I really hope you’re not suggesting we try to spank a baby Kraken, because you are on your own, you idiot,” hisses Axel, elbowing Roxas hard in the ribs when he starts to snicker.

“Of course not,” says the pirate defensively. “He hasn’t got an arse.”

“Axel,” pleads Roxas, using the wide puppy eyes, and Axel knows he’s sunk before Roxas finishes his plea. “We could let him try it his way, couldn’t we? I mean, you can always throw fireballs at it if it doesn’t listen, right?”

Axel brightens a bit at the thought, because really there’s no way in hell this harebrained scheme is going to work.

“All right,” he growls. “You get one chance, Sparrow. One. It stops sucking down shadows or it’s seared ahi for dinner.” The Flurry of Dancing Flames may hate the ocean, but he likes sushi just fine, thank you.

It takes the combined efforts of all three of them plus a demonstration of Axel’s firepower to convince the crew to bring the pinnace closer to the frolicking sea monster. They are terrified, and Axel’s not sure he blames them. Not that he’s scared, because fire, but he can see why a regular person would be. Unless the person was Jack Sparrow and too arrogant to be real. Convincing accomplished, they approach the disturbance in the water. As they draw near, he can finally get a good look at the thing. It’s mostly tentacle, dozens or maybe hundreds of them thrashing and roiling about, the suckers on them the size of saucers. He sees one huge golden eye as the kraken rolls among the waves, easily the size of his head. The pupil contracts and he’s pretty sure it sees them. It’s skin is mottled green and blue and silver, and he has to admit that it’s kind of pretty. Three tentacles rise out of the water and grope towards the little ship. One of the sailors shrieks in terror.

“OI!” bellows Jack at the top of his lungs. “HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, BOYO!” At his roar, the tentacles freeze in midair and the creature stops thrashing about. The eye rolls back to the surface and stares up at Jack, who is leaning over the side of the vessel and shaking his finger at it. The pupil is wide and startled. “RIGHT THEN,” howls the pirate. “YOU’D BETTER STOP HAVING PEOPE FOR LUNCH, LITTLE MAN, OR THERE’S A WORLD OF TROUBLE COMING YOUR WAY. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOUT ANYWAY?”

The tentacles sag dejectedly and one of them reaches tentatively towards Jack, who rears back for a moment in alarm. When the creature does not snatch him, he holds still, the whites of his eyes showing a little, breath heaving in his chest, waiting to see what it will do. An enormous mouth appears at the surface, something like an octopus’ beak but also something like a lamprey’s maw, full of row after row of sharp little teeth. A sound emanates from the monster. It is a lot like the sounds whales make, something Axel vaguely remembers listening to in Biology class when he’d been a real boy and gone to school. It is hauntingly lovely, and also achingly sad.

“He’s sorry,” breathes Roxas. Axel opens his mouth to scoff at this, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The creature’s cry is mournful, and its lone tentacle quivers a little as it reaches towards Jack, as though begging his forgiveness. Axel notices out of the corner of his eye that the clutch of shadows are racing away across the surface of the water as fast as they can.

“Right,” says Jack firmly. “If you promise not to do it anymore, I’ll show you how to go home and you won’t have any trouble, savvy? Have we got a deal, young man?”

Axel snorts at a twenty foot long sea monster being called young man, but to each his own, he supposes. The tentacle bounces up and down a bit in eagerness and the gaping maw emits another sound, softer this time, and for lack of any better descriptors, Axel thinks it’s doing its best to coo at Jack Sparrow. Jack reaches out gingerly and takes the tip of the tentacle in his hand, shaking it up and down a couple of times, grinning smugly. Great, just what Axel needs, this dick to save the day and rub it in his face. He should probably just set both of them on fire. A startled squawk from Sparrow makes him look up. The juvenile kraken has one tentacle wrapped around Jack’s upper body, pinning his arms to his sides and thoroughly soaking his swirly coat with its bronze braided trim, and another one gently strokes his face and head, knocking his hat to the deck and smearing a truly disgusting looking slimy substance all over him. One of the suckers sticks to his cheek, distorting his features as it tugs gently. When it pulls away with a wet, sucking sound, there’s a huge red mark on Sparrow’s face. It looks like a hickey, except it’s the size of a softball.

“’Ey,” shouts the pirate in alarm. “Geroff me!”

The kraken doesn’t listen. Axel sinks his teeth into his bottom lip because what he really wants to do right now is giggle, and that just wouldn’t be dignified.

“I,” he says, gasping with the effort of not collapsing into helpless laughter, “I think it…” Jesus, Axel, get your shit together. Your entire existence has just been justified. This moment, right here, right now… well except for that moment when Roxas said yes….this is worth every shitty thing you’ve had to put up with. “I think it thinks you’re its mother, Captain.” The title doesn’t even rankle, not one bit, not when Jack’s face and hair are covered in slime and an entire pinnace full of sailors are rolling around on the deck howling with laughter and Roxas is biting his own lips to keep from joining them and Jack’s facial expression is panicky and horrified.

Axel reaches out and takes Roxas’ hand. Negligently, he gestures with his free hand and a portal opens behind him. Several of the sailors mutter in shock, but he doesn’t care. Despite the fact that Jack Sparrow is a pirate and a ponce and an asshole, he’ll see the baby kraken back to the deep where it belongs. Axel’s certain of that. Part of him wishes he could be there to see Jack trying to convince the thing to let go of his face and go home, but he’s claimed his property where Jack could see it and couldn’t dispute it (poor Roxas, he’s probably going to bitch about the mess in his pants for weeks. Worth it though.) AND Jack’s mouth’s too busy trying to argue with a happy baby sea monster to get the last word in. A better moment for a grand exit will never be had. He nudges Roxas gently through the darkness ahead of him, looking back over his shoulder at the consternation and panic on the pirate’s face.

“Good night,” he calls cheerfully as he steps through, “mom.”

And that, he thinks smugly as they race home, is how Nobody messes with Jack Sparrow.


End file.
